


Things Beyond the Skies

by amorevolous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Dragons, Found Families, Minor Violence, Multi, Sky Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorevolous/pseuds/amorevolous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite what others might say, Kuroo knows he’s not a hero. It might all look exciting on paper – rescuing princesses and chasing down dragons, becoming the Captain to a ragtag crew of pirates – but his intentions have never been that noble. All he'd ever wanted was to protect his family; he didn't care about saving the world. But maybe those things are one and the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue - promises (un)broken

The first thirteen years of Kuroo Tetsurou's life have been exceedingly ordinary. His memories are nothing but a series of repetition - wake up, go to school, come home and help his grandmother with the chores, eat dinner, and then sleep. Sometimes he'll accompany her when she goes out to the marketplace, but that's about as much excitement as he ever sees.

It's not his fault, of course. Thirteen years is hardly enough time to go on an adventure, though it's not like he's raring to go, either. The village of Sei is a small town, comforting in its familiarity. Surrounded by forest on all sides, it very nearly straddles the border between Souko and Asaka kingdom to the east. Sei is fairly self-contained, and visitors (not counting the tax collectors from the capital) aren’t all that common. Tetsurou lives a quiet life with his grandmother, and he's never had reason to want anything else.

That is, until he finds the body.

Everything about today should have been the same as any other. This late in the summer, the sun is especially hot so Tetsurou’s classmates have taken a trip down to the river to spend a few hours cooling off. He’s only running a little late, but somehow it’s enough time for someone to have collapsed unnoticed. Or maybe his classmates are just unobservant.

Either way, the forest is quiet when Tetsurou finds him. Curled up at the base of a tree is a boy seemingly around his age, black hair long enough to hide his face and dressed in foreign clothes - a long, white shirt with fancy embroidery around the edges, and matching pants. They’re stained with the dirt from the ground, as are his bare feet, which strikes Tetsurou as particularly odd. 

He’s definitely not from around here.

Frowning, Tetsurou creeps closer and crouches down in front of him to get a better look. His skin is soft, warm with the healthy glow of the rich, cheeks rounded with baby fat. He doesn’t seem to have anything with him except the clothes on his back, and Tetsurou doesn’t recognize them well enough to identify where he might have come from. 

He’s sleeping so _soundly_ , which is probably the strangest thing about this. Left defenceless in a strange forest, the last thing Tetsurou would do is take a nap. 

But - maybe he’s been travelling for a while. Their village is pretty isolated, and Tetsurou can’t remember the last time anyone had come this way, but it’s not like he could’ve fallen from the sky. 

“Hey,” he says, barely above a whisper as he nudges at the boy’s shoulder, “wake up already.”

All he gets is an unintelligible grumble for his efforts, the boy curling in on himself further in an attempt to shrug off Tetsurou’s grip.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he adds, “it’s dangerous.”

Still nothing. Sighing, Tetsurou sits back and considers leaving the boy here and heading out to the river, but discards the thought as quickly as it comes. It wouldn’t feel right, abandoning someone like this.

Instead, he moves to settle in next to the boy with his back against the trunk of the tree, and waits.

 

 

It’s verging on late-afternoon by the time the boy finally stirs. He sits up slowly, wiping at his face and dusting off his clothes, lips already turned down in a frown as he turns his face up towards Tetsurou.

“You stayed.”

Tetsurou blinks. Maybe it’s just the angle of the sun filtering in through the trees, but his eyes seem to be a glowing amber, almost gold. It’s so startling it takes him a moment to register the quiet tone of his voice. 

“Well, yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I wasn’t just gonna leave you here by yourself.”

“You could have,” the boy says, turning away and pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Where are you from?” Tetsurou asks instead. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

This only makes the boy shrink in on himself further; Tetsurou wonders if he’s been purposely abandoned.

He tries again, refusing to be deterred. “What’s your name? I’m Kuroo.” 

“... Kenma.” 

It doesn’t _sound_ like a family name, but Tetsurou can’t be sure. One thing he does know is that there definitely aren’t any Kenma’s in Sei. But where is he supposed to go from here? It’s obvious that Kenma is at least a little wary - if not outright suspicious - of him, and Tetsurou can’t say he blames him. He needs to figure out a way to earn this kid’s trust.

“Do you like to swim?” The flat look Kenma gives him kind of makes him want to shrivel up, but Tetsurou presses on, “a few of my classmates are hanging out by the river, you can come with us if you want.”

“I’ll pass.”

So much for that. Sighing, Tetsurou hugs his knees to his chest so he’s matching Kenma. His head makes a dull _thud_ as he tilts it back against the trunk behind him.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Kenma says. He’s got his chin on his knees, lips pushing out in a barely-there pout and eyes on his toes as he wriggles them in the dirt. He looks miserable.

“Of course I do.” Kenma’s gaze snaps towards him even as he keeps his face turned away. Tetsurou pretends it isn’t unsettling. “Baa-chan would never forgive me if I left a kid out here to get lost by himself.”

Kenma looks away again. “I’m not lost.”

“Eh? Aren’t you?”

“No.”

There’s a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth but Tetsurou fights to tamp it down. It wouldn’t be fair to laugh at him, it’s just… this kid is so _stubborn._ “What would you call it, then?”

The only response is Kenma’s irritated huff. Tetsurou definitely laughs at that, a near-silent snicker that he tries to hide in the crook of his elbow. The tension in Kenma’s shoulders tells him he failed. 

But, somehow, he never actually tells Tetsurou to leave. Tetsurou isn’t sure if it’s because he honestly doesn’t care or if he secretly prefers his company, but he’ll take what he can get. He doesn’t realize how late it’s gotten until the evening chill starts to set in, and his spine straightens in alarm.

“ _Shit!_ ” he curses (thankfully his grandmother isn’t around to hear him). Kenma jerks beside him, equally startled. “I need to go home, I’m late for dinner.” 

“Okay…” Kenma says, blinking slowly. “Bye.”

“I - wait, no - why don’t you come with me?”

“I can’t.”

 _Can’t? Or won’t?_ Kenma looks small enough that Tetsurou could probably just carry him, but that seems a little excessive. “You can’t - it gets cold at night. You don’t want to sleep out here.”

“I’m not going to.”

Tetsurou makes a show of glancing around their tiny clearing. There’s only forest or the village, and Kenma’s already turned down his offer so he’s not sure where _else_ he could be thinking of going. 

But Kenma only sighs, climbing to his feet and dusting off his pants. Tetsurou kind of thinks they’re already a lost cause, but whatever. He hops up beside him, convinced that Kenma’s changed his mind, and starts leading the way back towards the village. Only -- glancing over his shoulder, he finds that Kenma’s ambling away in the opposite direction.

“What - where are you going?” he yelps. 

“Home.” Kenma doesn’t even bother stopping. 

“ _Haah?_ ” Now he’s just being ridiculous. “What are you talking about?” he sighs, “there’s nothing--”

“-- _Don’t_ follow me.” His feet pause just long enough for him to shoot Tetsurou a dark look over his shoulder; Tetsurou freezes instinctively, eyes going wide in surprise at the sharpness of his tone. He can do nothing but stand there and watch as Kenma disappears among the trees, arms hanging limply at his sides.

 

 

He’s not there the next day. Not that Tetsurou is expecting him to be; it’s only curiosity that has him heading back to the clearing, but there’s no one there and no sign that there had ever been any visitors at all. Tetsurou tells himself he’s not disappointed. 

 

 

Two weeks later and he’s mostly put the strange encounter out of his mind. There hasn’t been any news of a body found in the woods, so it’s safe to assume that Kenma had managed to make it back to wherever ‘home’ is safely. 

Summer break means Tetsurou is free to assist his grandmother during her frequent trips out to the marketplace. Business always picks up this time of year, people in high spirits because of the good weather and children out of school and begging their parents for treats. The displays are always interesting - merchants from all over the province come during the summer, some travelling from even more distant corners of the country, and with them comes some new trinket to be admired or a story to be heard. Tetsurou alternates between helping his grandmother manage her stall and running around trying to visit as many vendors as possible during his breaks. There are always a few familiar faces and even more newer ones, and by the time they’ve packed up the caravan to head home in the evenings he’s always exhausted.

Which is why he doesn’t immediately recognize the figure lounging in the field beside the road leading into Sei until they’ve almost passed him. 

“You’re back!” he calls out, leaping down from his spot next to his grandmother. Behind him, the horses whine as they’re abruptly jerked to a stop but Tetsurou doesn’t notice. Instead he rushes forward, beaming widely as Kenma slowly shuffles across to meet him. 

He’s wearing the same clothes as before, though much cleaner, and for some reason he’s _still_ not wearing shoes.

Kenma falters before he’s reached the halfway point, looking uncertain. Tetsurou slows as well even though there’s still a few feet between them, but his grandmother’s voice calls out to him before he can ask what’s wrong.

“Tetsu-kun?” The _‘who is this boy?’_ goes unsaid but he hears it in her tone anyway and winces, because he’d honestly forgotten she was there. Glancing back, he flashes her what he hopes is a reassuring grin as he waves her off. 

“It’s fine, Baa-chan, he’s a friend of mine.”

He watches as she scrutinizes Kenma a moment longer, resisting the urge to turn around and check that his - friend? acquaintance? - isn’t too put off by the attention. For whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to like strangers; if he’d been awake when Tetsurou had first approached him, he probably would have run off before Tetsurou had a chance to ask him anything.

“Alright,” his grandmother says, finally looking away. “Don’t stay out here too late.” 

The caravan starts moving again after that and Tetsurou watches them go for a moment before grinning and turning back towards the field. Kenma’s already sat back down, sprawled out like he doesn’t have a care in the world or maybe trying to hide himself in the tall grass. Ambling over, Tetsurou drops down beside him and grins.

“So you really _do_ live around here!” he says, and receives an unimpressed stare for his trouble. It does nothing to deter him. “Why did you decide to come back?”

“No reason,” Kenma says, shrugging as he glances away. “I was taking a walk.” 

“A walk? Out here? _By yourself?_ ” Tetsurou doesn’t know if he’s impressed or concerned. But, well - if Kenma lives near their forest as well, he’s probably familiar enough with the area to be comfortable the way Tetsurou is. 

“I like the quiet.” 

Kenma slowly rolls onto his side before sitting up, crystal pendant glinting in the sun where it dangles around his neck. Tetsurou can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the way it changes color with the light. He hadn’t been wearing it last time.

“What?”

Blinking, Tetsurou realizes he’s been caught and shrugs sheepishly. “Eh? Nothing. It’s pretty.” 

To his surprise, Kenma clicks his teeth in annoyance and tucks it back under his shirt. 

 

 

His grandmother’s health starts to decline with the onset of autumn. It’s not surprising - she’s always been sensitive to seasonal shifts - but this year is worse than ever. Taxes have been going up and it’s affecting the whole village; now that the time has come for them to start taking stock of their resources, he’s realizing that they might be cutting it close this winter. He suspects his grandmother’s known for a while, but she’d never said.

Tetsurou is old enough now to start considering apprenticeships, but _everyone_ is scrambling for work lately. Baa-chan tells him not to worry about it, that there will be jobs come spring and that he ought to focus on his studies for now, but how can he not when he sees how quickly her work tires her? 

Kenma’s visits are always unpredictable and very rarely twice in the same week, but he always wanders back eventually. Most of the time he naps under the sun while Tetsurou does his schoolwork by his side, but sometimes he’ll let Tetsurou coax him into splashing around in the river. 

Noticing his distraction, Kenma reminds him that it’s most important for Tetsurou to help out however he can instead of making her worry about him. He spends more time at home learning how to sew - by hand and with his grandmother’s old machine - and when he does go out to see Kenma he almost always brings something along with him to practice. 

He’s a far cry from being anywhere near as good as Baa-chan, but he can at least help her manage the work that comes from other villagers, who won’t _really_ mind his somewhat roughshod work as long as their things are patched up in time for winter, while she focuses what little energy she has on the things she’ll sell in town.

 

 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when the day comes that she’s too ill to manage the trip, but Tetsurou is filled with apprehension all the same. He’s accompanied her on these trips often enough that he knows the workings of her business almost as well as she does, and his school teacher has agreed to sit with him in the stall in her place, but it does little to quell his nerves.

In the end, he handles most of the sales himself. They close up early once the customer stream starts trickling into nothing - already fewer than the last time they’d come - and Tetsurou takes the opportunity to visit some of the other remaining stalls.

He’s drawn to a display table with all kinds of ornaments and jewelry for sale. Tetsurou has a bit of his own allowance left - his grandmother had refused to take it from him when he’d offered - and with Kenma’s words in mind he decides to spend it on something that will hopefully cheer her up.

There are so many shiny things that it’s hard to choose just one, but in the end he settles on what he’s assured is a ‘simple, yet elegant’ hairpin. But, as he’s turning to head back to where their caravan is waiting, his eye is drawn to a very familiar kind of light. The vendor is surprised when he asks about it, and Tetsurou manages to talk him down to a price he can afford without much effort. 

 

 

“What is it?” Kenma asks, eyebrows furrowed as Tetsurou places the simply-wrapped parcel in his palm.

“I went shopping the other day,” he replies evasively, praying that the heat he can feel in his cheeks isn’t _too_ obvious.

Kenma’s mouth purses. “Aren’t you supposed to be _saving_ money?”

“It was my allowance. Baa-chan lets me spend it however I want.”

Kenma doesn’t look too convinced, but he carefully peels the paper off his gift and Tetsurou greedily watches the way his eyes go wide and his mouth puckers into a small ‘o’ of surprise. It’s a rounded amber stone, carefully polished to bring out the most of its shine. Tetsurou had chosen it because the way the light hit it reminded him of Kenma’s eyes, but it’s probably just a fake.

“Kuro..” Kenma says, soft and a little awestruck. There’s pink rising in his cheeks and his hands cup the stone like it’s something precious, and Tetsurou feels something like pride wriggling about in his belly. 

 

 

Winter draws near, and Tetsurou finds himself with a brand new list of concerns. Baa-chan’s health continues to teeter back and forth, to the point that the local medic advises her to focus on recovery over work. It means money is tighter than it’s ever been, even with the villagers doing what they can to help out. Tetsurou has no valuable skills that can be used to make up the deficit; he should have taken up an apprenticeship when he’d had the chance but now it’s too late. 

He has his hands too full with tending to his grandmother to even _think_ of leaving her alone all day to work, which means it’s also been a while since he last saw Kenma. Not that they’d have much time together even if he could; the days have grown too cold for idly sitting out under the sun. He still goes out to check what he’s come to consider _their_ clearing when he has the time, but it seems Kenma has come to the same conclusion. Tetsurou tells himself he doesn’t mind.

“Thank you, Tetsu-kun,” Baa-chan says as he helps her sit up before setting the tray with her dinner on her lap. She’s been bedridden for a few days now, futon padded with as many blankets as Tetsurou could get his hands on. She’d always looked young for her age but now it’s like all the years have caught up to her, her face growing haggard in the span of only a couple months. 

She’s the only family he has left and the thought of losing her _terrifies_ him. They just need to make it past the winter and she’ll be fine, or so everyone keeps saying. 

“It’s not much,” he starts, but she hushes him easily and they both fall silent as they eat. He’d never bothered to learn much about cooking before and it shows, but it’s edible and he likes to think he’s getting a little better everyday. 

 

 

The winter passes. Baa-chan’s made it through but it’s clear that her health will never be what it once was. Tetsurou has to find a way to pull his own weight. 

He goes into town looking for work but what he finds instead is a growing sense of unrest. War is brewing again, according to the rumors. The capital has begun recruiting young men for service. When he returns home, his mind is buzzing with options and half-formed ideas. He doesn’t want to tell his grandmother until he’s sure, but he needs _someone_ to talk to.

The ground in the forest is still cold and damp, but the snow has all but melted. Tetsurou isn’t really expecting to see Kenma - it’s been months, after all, he’s probably forgotten all about him by now - but there’s a rustling in the bushes and then Kenma comes stumbling into their clearing, bundled up in more layers than Tetsurou’s ever seen him in.

He can’t help the laughter that tumbles out of him at the sight, the dark look Kenma shoots him only making it worse. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasps out, flapping a hand as he finally manages to calm down. It’s been so long since the last time he’d laughed like this.

“Why’d you come today?” he adds, watching Kenma settle on a fallen log.

Shrugging, Kenma tilts his face up to the sky. “Felt like it.”

Tetsurou grins. “I missed you, too.”

“... So?” When Kenma looks back at him, his expression is an expectant one, eyebrows arched impatiently.

Sighing, Tetsurou slumps down into the spot next to him. “Baa-chan’s still sick. She’s not getting any worse but she’s not getting better either. The doctor said she probably won’t be able to work like before anymore.” 

Kenma hums.

“We can’t really afford the kind of medicine she needs, either, not on top of everything else. We just barely made it through the winter as it is. I went into town to look for a job but all anyone’s talking about is how we’re probably going to war again.”

“Kuro...”

“I know. _I know._ But it’s just - if the rumors are true, then the cost of everything is gonna go way up anyway. Even if I manage to luck out and get hired in one of the factories, it probably won’t be enough.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.” When he looks over, Kenma is frowning.

“I guess. Either way I’ll have to leave her behind, and having to pay rent would only mean there’s that much less for me to send back.”

“So just do it, then,” Kenma snaps, and Tetsurou’s spine straightens in surprise.

“Why are you mad?”

Kenma scowls. “I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

“I’m _not._ ”

He leans over to get a better look at his face but Kenma whips his head around before he can see anything more than pursed lips and cheeks that may or may not be flushed from the cold.

“.. Kenma--”

“--I’m going home.”

“Hey - wait!” He reaches out to try to snag Kenma’s sleeve but misses by a hair as Kenma is quick to twist out of reach. Tetsurou jumps up to follow as Kenma starts to shove his way back through the bushes he’d come from, but he’s frozen in place by the way Kenma’s eyes flash when he glares back at him in warning. 

Left alone with his hands flexing uselessly at his sides and his mind just as tumultuous as ever, Tetsurou lets loose the kind of cursing his grandmother would be horrified to hear. How did it end up like this?

 

 

The knot in his stomach follows him all the way home, but Tetsurou shoots down each of his grandmother’s attempts to ask about it. He and Kenma bickered sometimes, sure, but he’s never seen him get upset like this before. It’s unsettling, and frustrating because he’d been banking on Kenma putting everything into simple perspective the way he usually did. He was supposed to be objective, not emotional.

He goes back to the clearing a couple times, but unsurprisingly Kenma never shows. 

 

 

“Tetsu-kun, what’s going on with you lately?”

It’s been nearly two weeks since he last saw Kenma, but that’s not what keeps him from meeting his grandmother’s eyes. He’s been making inquiries about jobs every time he goes into town, but they’re only for show. His heart has already settled on a decision, it’s just the admitting to it that he’s struggling with.

“ _Tetsurou._ ” Her voice is sharp like the crack of a whip, and he feels his knees go weak as he sinks to the floor and folds over in a bow so low his forehead nearly touches the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts. There’s a tremor in his voice and he squeezes his eyes shut; above him, the sheets rustle as his grandmother shifts to turn towards him, sitting up straight. Pressing his fingers hard against the floor, he takes a deep breath and - “Please let me enlist!”

For a moment there is only silence. Tetsurou doesn’t dare open his eyes, much less lift his head, his words echoing in his mind as the moment stretches between them. She’s angry, he thinks, there’s no way she couldn’t be. He should have listened to Kenma after all.

“You’ve never looked so much like your father as you do this very moment,” she finally says with a sigh. He doesn’t know what that means; he’d never met the man, only knows him through the stories told by the rest of the village. 

Pushing himself up slowly, Tetsurou feels his stomach sink. Her eyes are shining with tears, her smile a rueful one. “Baa-chan, I -”

“I know. You may have your father’s looks, but you have your mother’s heart. He went for the glory, to make something of himself beyond this village and this family. But that’s not what you’re after, is it?”

“We don’t have any money.” It feels wrong to say it outloud like this, like he’s blaming her when that couldn’t be any further from the truth. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is their situation - she won’t be able to work anymore and Tetsurou needs a job capable of providing for the two of them. 

“You’ve grown up well, Tetsu-kun,” she says, her smile wobbling just a bit but her eyes softening into a look that he’s all-too familiar with. Slowly, the knot in his stomach begins to unravel. “I wish you could’ve stayed a child a little bit longer, but life doesn’t really work that way.”

“Baa-chan...” 

“I’m proud of you.” Her hand comes to rest on the top of his head and the tears he’d been holding in until now finally start to fall. Hers do, too, and before he can let himself feel self-conscious for it he rises up onto his knees and buries his face in her lap, arms winding around her waist.

“It’s a dangerous world out there, Tetsu-kun,” she says, fingers carding through his hair, “be careful, and be _smart._ ”

Lifting his face, he manages a wobbly smile through his tears. “I will. I promise I’ll come home, Baa-chan.”

 

 

Tetsurou is stubborn, but it pays off. Kenma comes back to their clearing, face reddening when he finds Tetsurou already there waiting for him. He doesn’t apologize, but Tetsurou hadn’t really expected him to. 

The process for enlisting is a lot more complicated than he’d expected. There are forms to fill out (Baa-chan and Kenma both help him because his writing isn’t the best), and tests to be taken. He spends almost an entire day standing in line with hundreds of other boys and men in the city, all waiting to have their measurements taken. Seeing the provincial soldiers up close, the differences are _staggering_ ; he’s never felt so much like a child, but at least he’s not the only one.

It takes a few weeks before he finds out if he’s made the cut. The letter comes while he’s out tutoring some of the younger children (the schoolteacher is pregnant; her husband will be joining Tetsurou in the capital), and sits unopened on the table. 

His hands shake as he reaches for it. His grandmother is nowhere to be seen - she likes to take walks sometimes, now that the weather is more agreeable - but he doesn’t want to open it by himself, so he waits. 

 

 

“You’re really going,” Kenma says, lips turned down in a deep frown. Tetsurou’s acceptance letter, worn from being read over and over again, is clutched tightly between his fists and in danger of being torn apart completely.

Not that it matters; Tetsurou memorized its contents that first night.

“I’m really going.” He’d known Kenma’s been hoping he’d get turned away, but it’s hard to ignore reality when it’s right in front of his face. Tetsurou’s stomach squirms unpleasantly - he still remembers what happened the last time Kenma had gotten upset, and he does _not_ want a repeat. 

It seems he’s not the only one who feels that way. After a moment, Kenma’s expression clears and he heaves a quiet sigh instead as he passes the page back. “War is _stupid._ ” 

Tetsurou shrugs. “We know that, but it happens anyway.”

Rolling onto his back, Kenma squints up at him past the glare of the sun. His face had thinned out over the winter, cheeks still rounded but only barely. They’re both growing up.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, and Tetsurou flushes. 

“And you’re mine.” They’ve barely known each other a full year but he can’t deny how much the statement rings true. Not speaking to Kenma had been _agonizing_ , and he’s almost always the first person Tetsurou thinks of when something interesting happens. It’s hard to imagine that coming to an end.

Leaving his grandmother behind will be hard enough, but at least Tetsurou knows that the entire village will be here to look after her. He has no idea who takes care of Kenma. 

 

 

They meet up the evening before Tetsurou is set to leave. There will be too many people out for Kenma to come see him off properly in the morning and he’s still not a fan of crowds.

Neither of them seem to know what to say. The air between them is stagnant and Tetsurou hates it, hates the way his stomach feels as heavy as lead with every wasted second. It’s not unusual for it to be quiet between them, but not like this. 

“Kenma--” 

“Kuro--”

Turning to each other at the same time, Tetsurou feels his cheeks warm. “You go first.”

Kenma ducks his head, fingers twitching in his lap before he huffs out a sigh and raises them to the pendant around his neck. Tetsurou watches as he pulls it over his head, his hair fluffing up as it’s disturbed. He curls his fist around it, clenching tightly, but shoves his hand out before he can change his mind. “Here.”

Kenma’s shoulders are up around his ears, face hidden by the curtain of his hair. Tetsurou’s heart is beating wildly and he’s not entirely sure why. “Kenma…” he starts, mouth gone just a little dry, “I - I can’t --”

“ _Take it._ ” His head snaps up and his eyes are as bright as Tetsurou’s ever seen them, even with the sun starting to sink down beneath the horizon. He grabs Tetsurou’s hand, curled into a loose fist in his own lap, and yanks it forward to press the necklace against his fingers until Tetsurou caves and opens his palm to accept it. 

It’s such a simple thing; just a crystal pendant hanging on a chain, and not even a polished one at that. But Tetsurou can’t recall ever seeing Kenma without it. 

Trembling, he lifts the chain to hang it around his neck, Kenma’s gaze heavy on him all the while. The crystal feels heavier than it had in his hand, but it’s a comforting weight where it rests against his sternum.

“Thank you.”

“Consider it a good luck charm,” is all Kenma says. 

Tetsurou wishes suddenly that he had something - anything - to give him in return. But there’s nothing in his pockets except for some lint and a single gold coin, and Kenma probably has enough of those to spare. 

“You don’t have to --” Kenma starts, watching him rustle around with a bemused expression.

“No, I just - here.” He holds out the coin with a sheepish smile, “it’s not really anything but it’s only fair, right?”

Kenma hesitates a moment before he takes it, his eyes glowing brighter with emotion. He runs his fingertips over the grooves in the edges of the coin like he’s committing them to memory, before clenching it in his fist and looking up at him with the softest smile Tetsurou has ever seen.

“Kuro. Don’t die.”

Tetsurou swallows. “I won’t.”

  


* * * * *

  


“You’re late,” is the first thing Sawamura Daichi says, standing at the end of the dock with his hands on his hips. The pale, cross-shaped scar at his left temple stands out starkly with the way the sunlight catches on his face, making him seem a lot older than his twenty-five years. 

The city of Hewa has one of the largest ports in the country and Sawamura unofficially controls a sizeable chunk of them, though no one is quite sure how he managed it. The rumors vary from one province to another - in some he’s a dangerous tyrant, consumed by greed and pride, but to the people of Hewa he’s a war hero. It’s mainly thanks to Sawamura's influence and leadership that the once deeply impoverished city has once more begun to flourish.

Today is as loud as ever, workers calling out to each other as they move around the docks carrying cargo back and forth, and no one bats an eye as The Elektra pulls in. Climbing down from the ramp, Kuroo grins, squinting at him through his one good eye. “Still morning, isn’t it?”

“ _Barely_.”

Behind him are the heavy sounds of his crew’s footsteps as they begin to unload their cargo. “You could at least _try_ to help out,” Yaku grumbles as he passes, barely visible beyond the end of the crate he’s carrying. Tsukishima scoffs, loudly, at the other end. 

Kuroo ignores him. “But I hired _you_ to do all the heavy lifting.” He can’t see Yaku’s face, but he doesn’t need to to know there’s probably a vein ticking in his forehead already. 

Sawamura sighs, but Kuroo knows he’s well used to his crew’s antics by now. Sawamura's own workers start filing past them to assist with the unloading and Kuroo barks out a laugh at Tanaka’s predictable, disgruntled shout of “ _Onee-chan!_ ” as Saeko reunites with her baby brother.

Stepping out of the way, Kuroo follows Sawamura back to the warehouse. Azumane is already waiting for them in Sawamura office and Kuroo claps him on the arm in greeting, grinning at the metallic _clank_ that echoes through the room as Azumane grimaces.

“Alright, let’s talk business then,” he says, dropping into the seat opposite Sawamura's desk.

Sawamura sits as well, only Azumane remaining standing as he digs through the pile of paperwork for their current inventory list. 

“We managed to get through the winter thanks to your crew, but there’s a food shortage further north in Jima that we were hoping we could deal with soon. The army’s patrols have been restless lately so travelling that way has been difficult - too many random check stops. Yamamoto is off on a delivery that way right now; we haven’t heard anything from him yet.”

“I’m choosing to see that as a good thing,” Sawamura adds.

Kuroo nods. “We could probably head that way in about a week, as long as nothing more pressing comes up before then. Tank’s running a little low and fuel these days isn’t cheap, so we’ve mostly been staying local and holding out for something big.”

“If we manage to get our hands on any, I’ll set some aside for you,” Sawamura offers. 

“Yeah, thanks.”

The door flies open then, Azumane jumping a little in surprise at the sudden noise (Sawamura _almost_ flinches, and Kuroo smirks at the scowl that forms on his face). 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto crows, nudging the door shut again with a foot and slinging an arm around Azumane's shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, yet. We’re just catching up.”

Humming thoughtfully, Bokuto starts to perch himself on the arm of Kuroo’s chair but quickly thinks better of it when he catches the way Sawamura's eyes narrow. 

“Actually,” Azumane cuts in, distracting Bokuto before he can start getting restless, “there _was_ something we wanted to bring up with you.” Both his and Sawamura's faces turn serious, almost grim. Bokuto and Kuroo exchange glances, Bokuto straightening and crossing his arms as Kuroo nods.

“Go ahead.”

“Kids have been going missing. Not just here, we’ve heard about it in a couple of places we do our deliveries to as well. It’s not enough for people to really take notice, just a couple here and there, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence?”

“Trafficking?” It’s not an uncommon practice, especially in places where good work is harder to find. People show up and make false promises to lure in their victims and then those people are shipped off to other continents, never to be heard from again. Very few ever manage to escape.

Bokuto’s expression has darkened considerably. “Do you have any leads?”

Frowning, Azumane shakes his head. “No, nothing yet, just rumors. It’s not much, I know, but I was hoping…”

This is usually the kind of job Kuroo would be more than happy to take, but their current situation needs to be considered. “Yeah,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. Next to him, Bokuto starts to scowl. This isn’t going to go well.

“Kuroo--”

“--I know, but we don’t have the fuel to go chasing rumors. We need _money,_ Bokuto.”

“And that’s more important than _saving children’s lives?_ ” 

Bokuto is all puffed up now, full of righteous fury. Azumane looks like he regrets bringing it up and even Sawamura is eyeing the two of them warily. It’s almost impossible to reason with Bokuto when he gets like this and Kuroo has to bite back a snarl because that’s _not what he meant_ and they both know it.

“What use will be we if we stall out before we’ve even found them? Or worse, once we’re trying to escape?” 

“We can find jobs along the way, Kuroo, it’s not impossible.” 

“It’s not like I’m saying no!” he finally explodes, pushing to his feet now because he can’t stand Bokuto hovering over him like this for a moment longer. Sawamura rises as well, leaning over the desk and prepared to shove them apart if necessary. “It just makes more sense to wait until there’s more information.”

“And if it’s too late? What then, _Captain?_ ”

“Dammit, Bokuto! We can’t save everyone!”

The silence that follows is strained. Even the noise from the warehouse seems to have stopped.

“Look,” Sawamura tries, after a beat, “we can get word out to some of our other contacts, okay? If there’s news we’ll get in touch but it’s not like you’re our _only_ option, y’know?”

Bokuto deflates a bit, still scowling but no longer incensed. It’s a sore subject for all of them, but _someone_ needs to keep their head and there’s a reason Kuroo was the one appointed as Captain. But before he can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door.

“Message for you, Captain,” Yaku says as he slips through the crack he’d made. Kuroo doesn’t miss the way he eyes the room’s occupants warily as he holds out the folded note - definitely overheard, then. Good thing his crew is already used to their explosive blowouts.

Scanning the page quickly, Kuroo grins. “Good news - we just got a new job. It should only take a couple days at most, and then we can handle _this,_ deal?”

The last part is directed at Bokuto, who despite his earlier convictions perks up at the news. “Treasure hunting?”

“But of course.”

 

They don’t leave right away. Kuroo always gives his crew a night off between stops, and tonight is no exception. Besides, Saeko would probably kill him if she didn’t get to spend a proper evening with her brother.

But while the rest of them are off enjoying their free time, Kuroo and Bokuto sit on the floor of Kuroo’s room, heads bent together over a map spread out between them. 

“No way around it,” Bokuto’s saying, “we’ll have to park somewhere discreet and hike the entire way on foot.”

Kuroo snorts at the idea of hiding an airship of this size _discreetly_ but he knows Bokuto is right. “We’ll need to load up on supplies before we head out, then. How’s the inventory?”

“Should be fine,” Bokuto shrugs. “Gonna have to head out early though; Saeko’s gonna _love_ that.”

 

 

Saeko does _not_ love that. Most of the crew is still getting their much needed sleep when she wakes to fly them out to the mountain range. Kuroo greets her with a wide smile that has her baring her teeth at him as she slips into the seat next to him at the helm of the ship. 

“You don’t have to come up with us,” he offers, ankles crossed where his feet are propped up on the dashboard. Saeko swats at them irritably until he takes them down.

“Fuck that. What’s the point in waking up this early if I get to miss the fun part?”

He figured she’d say something like that, so he only shrugs. It’s a quiet flight, the two of them settling into their usual rhythm soon enough. It’s not long before Kuroo hears Yaku up and about, probably doing a last-minute check of their supplies because he’s annoyingly anal like that. 

By the time they’ve landed, the entire retrieval team is up and more-or-less ready to go. It’s a small group, since they have no idea how big this cave is or how long it’ll take to find what they’re after - just Kuroo, Bokuto, Saeko, Yaku, and Konoha. Each of them are armed and carrying their travel packs, filled with water and enough rations to hopefully last them the entire trip and back.

Kuroo leads the way up. It’s a quiet hike, for the most part, everyone choosing to preserve their energy. Bokuto hums, quiet but off-key, but it’s the kind of background noise that they’re all used to so no one bothers to complain. It’s best to just leave him be rather than risk putting him in a slump before they’ve even crossed the first milestone. 

“Ah, it’s _hot,_ ” Konoha groans as they pause to take a break near the mid-point. The sun is higher in the sky now but it’s mostly the exertion that taxes them rather than the weather; it’s actually pretty mild out. 

Kuroo had left his coat back on the ship but even in just his shirtsleeves he can feel the way his sweat makes the fabric stick to his skin. He’s glad he’d had the foresight to trade his usual heavy eyepatch for one made of cotton. 

“We’re almost there. The cave will probably be a lot cooler than this, anyway.” He means the temperature, but Bokuto perks up at the reminder of their purpose.

“Did he tell you what it did?” he asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Kuroo rolls his eye. “Does he ever?” 

Bokuto pouts.

“Does it matter?” Yaku cuts in, “it’s not like we’ll be able to use it. What if it’s a one-time-only kind of deal? That’ll just piss him off.”

“Ah, that’s true.” 

“Might not be a ‘doing’ kind of thing, anyway. Maybe it’s just really rare and expensive,” Saeko adds, grinning. 

“Enough chatter,” Kuroo decides, before this can start to get out of hand. “Let’s pack up and get moving again, I wanna find this cave before it gets dark.”

The team grumbles but immediately moves to follow the order, which is about what he’d expect from them. Though Kuroo’s ship is filled with people from all over and he feels responsible for each of them, the group assembled here are among those whom he trusts absolutely. They may bicker and complain, but he knows that come hell or high water, they’ll have his back because they each know that he’d do the same; it’s how they work, how they’ve always worked. Today is just more of the same.

 

 

As it turns out, finding the cave isn’t as easy as they’d hoped. Mainly because, as they quickly discover the further they climb, there are more than one on this mountain and they have to stop and check each of them. At this rate, it’ll definitely be nightfall before they find it and Kuroo had _really_ been hoping to avoid camping out. 

He’s not particularly familiar with this area and that always makes him a little more paranoid than usual.

They’re coming on their fourth cave, and Kuroo’s about to suggest that they call it a day if this one doesn’t turn out, when Yaku freezes at the entrance, fist tightening around the staff that doubles as a walking stick.

Kuroo’s hand immediately goes to his side, for the pistol he carries on his hip, but before he can pull it out a voice emerges from inside the cave.

“Don’t bother; we’re not interested in a fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a slow start, haha, but i promise things will only pick up from here if y'all are willing to stick with me! thank you all so much for reading, feel free to drop me a message on [tumblr](http://kozumetetsu.tumblr.com) to say hi!


	2. taking flight

Several things happen very quickly. Ignoring the stranger’s warning, Kuroo draws his pistol just in time to see Yaku sent flying as he’s shoved by some kind of force. Behind them, Bokuto and Saeko both cry out in outrage.

 _‘Magic,’_ Kuroo thinks with a grimace, already charging forward while Yaku struggles to his feet. That’s going to make this a whole lot harder, but it’s nothing they haven’t dealt with before.

“I thought you didn’t want a fight,” he calls out, gun in hand but still pointed towards the ground. He can’t risk looking behind himself but hears as Yaku brushes off his crew’s concern with an irritated, “I’m _fine,_ I said!” and the heavy footsteps of Bokuto at his back. 

The cave is dark in a way that _can’t_ be natural, sunlight barely reaching a foot inside before it’s swallowed up. It’s impossible to make out even the most vague of shapes so he has no way of knowing how many of them are in there - if they try to retaliate, they could be walking into an ambush. 

But it’s not that wide of a space, at least from what he _can_ see. Maybe three people across, though there’s no telling how deep it is or if it opens up after a point. He doesn’t like any of this, and if it weren’t for the fact that they needed the money from this job, he’d already be telling the others to forget about it. 

“Take your men and go, and there won’t be one,” comes the voice from within. It’s funny; despite clearly having the upper hand, they’ve yet to make a decisive move. This is starting to sound a lot like a bluff. 

“ _Kuroo,_ ” Bokuto hisses, and Kuroo knows they’re both on the same page. They’re still at a disadvantage - Kuroo can’t just shoot blindly into the cave without risking damaging the thing they’re after in the first place (and it had damn well better be worth the payout after all the trouble they’re going to) - but they’re also the ones blocking the exit so there’s nowhere for their opponents to run. 

“As tempting as that sounds,” Kuroo drawls, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He starts to take a step forward but he’s hit with the same concussive force that sent Yaku flying before he can get very far. It strikes him in the center of his chest, winding him and making him stumble backwards, though he doesn’t completely lose his footing. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he wheezes, rubbing at what’s sure to be one _hell_ of a bruise _._ Bokuto’s taken up a defensive stance next to him, probably bracing himself for another blast but Kuroo doesn’t think it’ll come. “Seems like you’re running out of power; how long do you think you guys can hold out?”

Goading them probably isn’t the smartest move, but unless Kuroo can draw them out of the shadows this stalemate could go on forever. 

“You’re an idiot,” comes their reply, right before the ground starts to tremble beneath their feet. Kuroo curses again, raising his gun and rushing inside the cave. The darkness swallows him instantly, like a curtain coming down on him, and no matter how hard he squints he can’t get his eye to adjust. 

“Captain?” Bokuto calls, sounding like he’s already half a step away from following. Kuroo gestures for him to stand down, before realizing that Bokuto probably can’t see him anymore. 

“Relax, man. I’ve got this.”

Kuroo very much does _not_ have this. He can’t even see his own hands in front of his face, and though he knows the exit is still at his back there’s nothing but blackness surrounding him on all sides. He needs a plan, and fast.

“I don’t think you do,” comes the voice again, amused and quiet enough for only Kuroo to hear. But that’s all he needs, and without a second’s hesitation he fires off a shot in the direction it came from - there’s a startled yelp but nothing else. He must have missed.

“That was reckless. I thought you _wanted_ this thing.” 

The voice comes from his left this time and Kuroo swings around to adjust, though he doesn’t fire. He’s being taunted and it grates, but he needs to keep a level head. It’s obvious now that whoever they are can see him just fine, so whatever magic they’re using doesn’t affect them. Even without the eyepatch he’s at a clear disadvantage. 

_‘I don’t even know what_ it _is,’_ he thinks sourly. Eyes closed, he inches forward, hoping he doesn’t look as ridiculous as he feels. There’s no way to combat the darkness, so he needs to rely on the rest of his senses instead. Straining his ears, he tries to pick out any kind of sound from his opponents - their breathing, their feet against the floor, _something_ \- but there’s nothing but his own heart pounding in his ears. 

Maybe he should just.. give up. No amount of money is worth risking his life, or the lives of his crew, and no matter how hard he tries he can’t seem to think his way out of this one. As much as he hates losing, hates _quitting_ , he’s not so stubborn that he can’t admit when he’s been beaten. 

He can already imagine the faces of the rest of the crew when he turns up empty-handed. They’ll be disappointed, sure, but they’ll understand. Even though they would have wasted what might just be the last of their fuel for the next little while, even if it means they won’t be able to help rescue those kids Sawamura was talking about... 

Something warm starts to build in Kuroo’s chest, burning hotter until it feels like it should be scalding but it isn’t. Someone curses, and then there’s Bokuto’s triumphant cheering from behind him. 

Cracking his eye open, he’s surprised to find the cave illuminated - or rather, the darkness from before seems to have been lifted and the light from the sun has finally reached them. Immediately, Kuroo’s gaze swings around until he finds his opponents. There’s only two of them, now huddled together in the furthest corner of the cave where the light doesn’t quite reach. 

They hardly seem like much of a threat.

“Captain!” Yaku’s voice is followed by the familiar footfalls of his crew as they all rush inside, weapons drawn. It’s not a _huge_ space but the warmth of them at his back serves to lessen the tension in Kuroo’s shoulders as he takes a moment to survey the newly lit space.

But there’s nothing that stands out to him as any kind of special artifact - which means someone else got there first. 

“Look,” Kuroo calls out, “you said you didn’t want a fight, didn’t you? So why don’t you just hand it over and we’ll all go our separate ways. Surely it’s not worth your lives?”

They could honestly hand him anything and he wouldn’t know the difference until it was too late, but he’s banking on them not knowing that. 

The taller of the two immediately turns towards the shorter. There’s a brief, hushed conversation between them - Kuroo can’t make out any words but he _can_ hear the sharp, irritated tone of the shorter and sees the way the taller seems to deflate - before they turn back to the group of pirates bearing down on them. 

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” the shorter man spits out, but he steps away from the shadows just enough to set a metal sphere on the ground and nudges it towards them with his foot. Kuroo watches it roll towards him, crouching only when it’s within arm’s reach and picking it up. 

It definitely _looks_ special - there are all kinds of runes engraved in it, the meanings of which go completely over Kuroo’s head. It’s a language he’s never seen before. Handing it off to Yaku, he gestures for Konoha to lead the way back out, walking backwards and keeping his gaze trained on the two in the corner until they’ve all cleared the cave. 

“Think they’ll come after us?” Bokuto mutters as they start the trek back down the mountain.

“Not for a while. They weren’t expecting anyone else to come looking or they would have put up more of a fight. They’re outnumbered for now and they know it, so we’ll just have to make sure to pass this off before they track us down again.”

“What if it’s a fake? I’ve never seen these runes before,” Yaku adds. 

Kuroo shrugs. The thought _did_ cross his mind but-- “We’ll have no way of knowing until we turn it in. It’s not our fault we weren’t told what to look for, we followed the instructions.”

“As long as we get paid,” Saeko says, and the immediate murmurs of assent are the last words shared between the group for a while.

 

 

They manage to make it back to the ship before the sun has completely set. Kuroo leads the whole crew into the nearest city to buy them all a meal for their hard work. It’s a larger city, nightlife bustling with curious travellers from all over, so they fit right in. It takes a bit to find a tavern with enough empty seats for all of them, but soon they’re settled in with drinks being passed around and empty plates stacking up in front of them.

“I think that was probably the easiest job we’ve had in awhile,” Konoha slurs, slumped over against Bokuto’s shoulder.

Seated across from him, Shirofuku makes a face. “How are you already this drunk?” 

Konoha raises a pointed eyebrow at the blonde practically asleep in her lap but Shirofuku scoffs. “She had to put up with all of _you_ all day, she definitely deserves it.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Kuroo says, grinning as he holds out his glass for a toast. There’s the clinking of glass and a rousing cheer from their group, Saeko twirling a finger in lieu of taking her own shot as she struggles to sit upright. 

“We should probably start heading back - you too, Tsukishima,” Shirofuku adds, smirking wide at the boy in question. He scowls down into his lap but moves easily enough when Yaku tugs at his arm to pull him out of seat, only stumbling a little as he stands.

Kuroo watches as nearly half his crew disappears out the door with a fond smile. This little celebration has cut into their already limited reserves, but it was definitely worth it. 

“So, Captain,” Bokuto starts, a familiar glint in his eyes. Kuroo groans even as he holds out his glass for a refill - it’s been too long since the last time he beat his engineer in a drinking contest, but his pride refuses to let him back down. 

 

 

There are hands at his waist, lips at his neck, and a body sitting astride his lap. Kuroo’s got one hand tangled in thick black hair, the other flat against the bed as he balances their weight with his elbow. He feels overheated, still dressed in his heavy jacket, but taking it off would require more coordination than he’s currently capable of. 

The mouth at his neck sucks a hickey deep into his skin and he groans, throwing his head back shamelessly and letting his hand fall from their hair to balance himself on both elbows as he starts to sag back against his mattress. They pull back briefly and Kuroo glances down through a heavy-lidded eye to meet deep brown, his partner’s gaze far more alert than he feels despite red flush spread across their face. Kuroo’s eyes fall to their lips, painted red and thoroughly smudged, and he groans. 

He can barely remember how they got here, the way they’d laughed into each other’s mouths as they stumbled towards his ship, noisily shushing each other as they tried to sneak past the sleeping occupants of the other rooms, Bokuto’s obnoxious wink as they’d parted ways in front of their respective doors and Konoha hanging limply from his arms. 

HIs eye flies open with a start - he doesn’t remember when he closed it - as the mouth at his neck slowly works its way lower, the collar of his shirt pushed aside to expose part of his chest. But as much as he wants to enjoy this - and _boy_ , does he - the combination of good food, good alcohol, and an excellent day of pirating have rendered him especially exhausted and he can’t seem to stay awake. Slumping, defeated, against the mattress with a slurred apology tumbling from his lips, the last thing Kuroo remembers is the gentle press of lips against his forehead as he finally gives in to sleep.

 

 

“You look like shit,” is the first thing Bokuto says to him the next morning, beaming smugly at him over the rim of his coffee mug. Scowling, Kuroo ignores him in lieu of the steaming mug Shirofuku holds out to him, raising it to his nose to inhale the curious scent of her homemade hangover brew.

“You’re a godsend,” he tells her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Maybe you should pay me like one.”

“Soon enough,” Kuroo winks, spirits already lifted by the mere presence of his cure. 

“Speaking of,” adds Yaku, sitting up suddenly from where he’d been slumped against the table, presumed unconscious, “who’s going to wake Saeko-san so we can go collect our paycheck?”

There’s a long pause as everyone gathered considers this.

“... I _am_ an actual pilot, y’know,” Kuroo says dryly.

Shirofuku’s eyes go wide in mocking disbelief and Kuroo rolls his, downing the last of his drink and stalking out of the room while grumbling about ungrateful employees. 

The route to Skeleton’s Closet is one Kuroo could navigate in his sleep and, all things considered, he thinks his crew would vastly prefer his less chaotic piloting after the night most of them have had. He heads back to his room to wash up (because lord knows someone would eventually comment on his unkempt appearance otherwise) and it’s only as he’s coming out of the shower, roughly towelling at his hair, that he realizes that something’s off.

He blames the hangover for not noticing it immediately, but there’s no use denying it after he’s gotten dressed and turned his entire room upside down. 

The damn sphere is gone.

“Shit.”

 

 

Two hours later and the entire crew is amassed together in their tiny kitchen. Yaku looks like he’s .02 seconds away from punching Kuroo in the face and, honestly, at this point he would welcome it. Saeko doesn’t look much better, hair sticking up from being awoken so abruptly and irritable thanks to her hangover. 

“It’s really not here,” Konoha groans, sinking down into his chair and leaning forward to drop his head onto the table, “what the hell are we going to do _now?_ ”

“How are we going to get paid? We barely had enough fuel for this trip as it was,” Saeko adds, growling. 

“Look, just - calm down, all of you. We still have a few things we can sell at the marketplace, even if it won’t get us much, and I’ll smooth things over with him myself. We’re the best team he’s got, he’s not going to cancel our entire partnership over one failed delivery.”

“If you say so,” comes from Tsukishima, all the way at the back of the room. 

“What I don’t understand is how you managed to lose it in the first place. How could someone just sneak in while we--” Yaku cuts himself off abruptly, realization dawning in his eyes as his face flushes red with anger. He fishmouths wildly before his mouth catches up with his brain, finger pointing accusingly at his Captain. “It was _her!_ ”

“What are you-- oh. _Oh._ ” Kuroo feels his stomach sink; not that it matters, because Yaku continues as if he hadn’t said a word.

“She must have been with those guys from yesterday. They knew we knew their faces so they sent someone else instead. I can’t believe you fell for that!”

“How would he have known?” Bokuto says, looking affronted on Kuroo’s behalf.

“Oh, please. He’s never been able to pick someone up that easily; that alone should have been a sign.” 

“Hey!” Kuroo yelps. “Like you’re any better. Anyway, what’s done is done. They wouldn’t have stuck around after pulling something like that anyway and we have no way of tracking them down so we need to just focus on what we’re going to do for money. Yaku, go get the inventory list so we can check what we have to sell. Everyone else, back to work.”

There’s some grumbling but they all file out without much fuss. Sagging into his seat at the head of the table, Kuroo buries his face in his hands and groans. “Wow, I really fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He lifts his face just enough to glare at Bokuto over the tips of his fingers. “Not helping.”

Bokuto shrugs, grinning. “We’ve gotten through a lot worse, we’ll manage.”

“You’re taking this _surprisingly_ well,” Kuroo says, lowering his hands to squint suspiciously at him, “you _do_ realize this means we probably won’t be able to go looking for those kids, right?”

He doesn’t know why he says it. Watching Bokuto’s expression twist into something sour and disappointed, Kuroo wishes he could take it back but it’s too late. Instead he sighs, sitting up as he scratches a hand through his hair. 

“I’m not ruling it out just yet, I just - maintaining this ship and this crew is always gonna be first priority. If we can scrape up enough to help out after that, then sure.” 

Bokuto drops into the seat next to him with a loud groan, limbs sprawling outward. But he’s not puffing up the way he had the first time Kuroo reminded him of this fact, so he’ll take what he can get. 

 

****

 

The palace is busier than she’s ever seen it. Officials from all over the country have been in and out for days, along with their escorts, too many names and faces than she can possibly remember. 

Not that it matters. According to her parents, she’s ‘too young’ for politics; her job is simply to smile and look pretty in front of their guests, to focus on her studies, and not worry about things that are bigger than she could possibly comprehend. Nevermind that she’s nearly twenty now, no longer a child but treated like one all the same. 

Hitoka is all too aware of her shortcomings. She’s naive and inexperienced, but none of these things will be solved by continuing to remain sheltered and unaware. 

Her grandfather’s passing came as a surprise to them all, her parents next in line for the throne but not quite prepared for the responsibilities that came with it. The kingdom is in turmoil, that much even she knows, even if the world outside her window seems as unaffected as ever. More often than not their eyes seem to look right through her. She’s invisible, irrelevant, no more than window dressings despite the title she holds. 

She hates it.

“Princess?” 

The voice that calls out to her is soft but still enough to startle Hitoka as she whirls around to face the silver-haired priestess. 

“Alisa-san!” she says, face flushed as she steps back from the closed doors of her father’s council room. 

Smiling genially, hands clasped in front of her robes, Alisa asks, “what are you doing all the way over here?”

“I was… just curious,” Hitoka admits, shoulders slumping guiltily. The doors are far too thick to hear anything through them, crafted for that exact purpose, but she’d had held out hope anyway. 

“You’re late for your lessons, Princess.” 

Bowing in apology, Hitoka hurries to Alisa’s side, falling into step with her easily as they both turn back towards the interior of the palace.

“Sneaking around the palace isn’t going send the kind of message to the King that you’re hoping to achieve,” Alisa scolds gently, frowning sidelong at her. Hitoka sighs.

“I know that,” she says, “but no one will tell me anything anymore, not even Kiy- Shimizu-san.”

“They’re just trying to protect you.”

“Keeping me ignorant about my own kingdom isn’t protecting me,” Hitoka grumbles, well aware of her tone of voice. If it were anyone but Alisa she’d be embarrassed, probably wouldn’t have spoken up at all, but the priestess is one of the few confidantes she has. 

“Then prove to them that you’re mature enough to know the truth. So long as you continue to act like a child, that’s all they’ll see you as.”

She’s right, of course. But the problem is that Hitoka doesn’t know _how_ to go about changing her parents’ perception of her; she’s already well-behaved and excelling in her studies, so what else could she do to prove herself? She can’t show them how responsible she is if they won’t give her any in the first place.

 

 

The sun is high in the sky by the time she’s released from Takeda-sensei’s tutelage for the afternoon, hours of free time spread out before her. Back in her room, Hitoka trades out her expensive dress for something much simpler and throws on a travelling cloak, pulling up the hood to hide her face. After peeking out into the hallway to ensure the coast is clear, she scurries through the palace in a route that’s now as familiar to her as her own face until she makes it out through one of the staff exits and out on the road to the city.

The first time she’d done this had been terrifying and she’d probably looked all the more suspicious for the way she’d skulked around corners and flinched at every sound she’d heard, but after a few weeks it’s a welcome relief to the strain of being trapped in the palace.

It’s easier once she reaches the city, to blend in with the rest of the citizens. She’d noticed long ago, one of her trips out of the palace with Alisa, that the women here are especially conscious of their appearance - probably due to the proximity of the royal family - so even with her face still painted Hitoka knows she won’t stand out. 

“Yachi-san!”

Glancing up at the familiar voice, Hitoka grins at the orange-haired boy barrelling towards her. 

“Shouyou-kun! You’re still here,” she greets warmly, rocking a little on the balls of her feet. 

“Not for much longer! My teacher thinks it’s time for us to move on, but I’m glad I get to see you again before we leave.”

“Oh.” It’s hard to look at his bright smile when all Hitoka feels is disappointment. She’s known all along that Shouyou would have to leave eventually, but she’d gotten used to seeing him during these illicit visits. 

“You could.. come with us?” Shouyou offers, frowning in confusion. 

Blinking in surprise, Hitoka starts to flap her hands nervously as she takes a step back. “What? Oh, no, no, I couldn’t do that. I can’t just - leave!”

“Why not? Didn’t you say you wanted your parents to take you seriously? Suga-sensei is a great teacher, I bet they’d be impressed.”

Hitoka’s eyes are wide, her heart racing at just the thought. “I don’t think running away would change their minds--”

“ _Eh?_ Who said anything about running away? Just tell them you’re going to become an apprentice, there’s no way they would turn that down.” 

If only it was that easy. Maybe if she were from a normal family, but there are Expectations for Hitoka even if she spends most of her time kept in the dark, and her place is here in the capital - in the palace. 

Yet.. she can’t deny that there’s something enticing about it. There’s still so much of this country she hasn’t seen, and the thought of being free of the mundane humdrum of the palace and its politics has it’s own kind of appeal. 

“You should at least ask,” Shouyou insists, mistaking her silence as hesitance. He takes her hands in his own, squeezing gently. “I’ll even come with you, if you want. We can talk to Suga-sensei, too.”

“Oh - no! No, you don’t have to do all of that. If they’re going to take me seriously, then I should do it by myself.”

Shouyou’s face lights up with something like pride, and it’s only then that her words register. What is she saying? She can’t just ask her father - the _King_ \- to go away with a pair of strangers for who knows how long. For all that she’s enjoyed Shouyou’s company these last couple of weeks, she doesn’t actually know anything about him or his teacher. He doesn’t _seem_ like the type of person capable of hiding things, but what does she know? 

“We should definitely talk to Suga-sensei,” Shouyou says, dropping one of her hands as he turns and starts to lead her to where his teacher is presumably waiting on him. 

“What, _now?_ ” Hitoka tries to pull back but he’s so determined he doesn’t even notice. They weave through the crowds like this, Hitoka barely able to see anything but the shock of Shouyou’s bright hair in front of her. 

They turn down into an dimly-lit alley and the crowd thins and disappears. The stalls here are shabbier than the ones in the main marketplace, some of them emitting putrid smells, and their owners honestly aren’t much better. People leer at them as they stand in the doorways to their shops, men puffing on heavy pipes and women in kimonos barely hanging on their shoulders. Now Hitoka digs her heels in, yanking her hand back as Shouyou whirls on her in surprise.

“Yachi-san?”

Frowning at him, she takes a careful step back towards the city center. “I don’t like this, Shouyou-kun.” She’s been warned time and again, by her parents and her teachers and even Shimizu-san, to stay away from these kinds of places. She knows the capital isn’t just bustling crowds and fancy ware sold by merchants - there are whorehouses and gambling dens and all sorts of illegal businesses right here under the King’s nose. It’s impossible to get rid of them entirely, especially with her father’s priorities on preventing another war, but it’s one thing to know they exist and something else entirely to be brought into them.

“What? _Oh,_ no, no. It’s fine, I promise. Suga-sensei was just looking to buy a few things and it’s a lot easier to find the real thing here instead. Most of those stalls just sell knockoffs because no one buying from them can tell the difference.”

It makes a certain amount of sense. From what she’s heard about Shouyou’s teacher, he seems to be quite a proficient priest.

Though it doesn’t do much to ease her fears, Hitoka lets him lead her further into the alley, keeping her face turned away from any of the merchants who call out to them as they pass. They’re not _all_ bad, she knows, but it’s a bit frightening all the same.

She doesn’t noticed they’ve arrived until a new voice calls out to them, far gentler than the others. “Shouyou-kun? What’s this?”

There’s a man standing on the steps of a tavern, silver-gray hair mostly hidden under a headscarf. He’s not dressed like any of the priests Hitoka has come to know - no heavy, ceremonial robes - but Shouyou did mention they’d been travelling for a while. 

“Sensei!” Shouyou folds into a quick bow. “I’d like to ask for a favor.”

“Shouyou--” 

“Please allow Yachi-san to travel with us. She wants a chance to prove herself to her family.”

Suga’s eyebrows go up in surprise and he glances over at Hitoka, who flushes under his scrutiny. Between them, Shouyou remains bent over though he cranes his neck to peer up at his teacher’s reaction. 

“I... don’t think that’s a good idea,” Suga says. Straightening, Shouyou’s mouth falls open in surprise. 

“But--!”

“I don’t think her parents would approve, even if I were to agree to this.” There’s something _knowing_ in his gaze and Hitoka’s cheeks darken further as she realizes that he’s recognized her already. 

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” she starts, haltingly, “I know this isn’t a good idea; I don’t even know why I let Shouyou-kun talk me into it in the first place.” Shouyou’s offended squawk goes ignored as Hitoka wrings her hands nervously. “But… this kingdom is falling apart, bit by bit. And I want to help, I just don’t know how. I don’t know _anything_ , and I hate it. I don’t know what the right thing to do is, but it’s definitely not sitting around doing nothing.”

Suga sighs. “Yachi… -san. I think it’s admirable that you want to get involved, because you’re not wrong. The kingdom is in terrible shape. But what makes you think you’ll be able to convince them?”

“I at least have to try.”

 

 

But it’s a lot harder to feel brave without Shouyou around to encourage her. Hitoka goes back to the palace and all of that fiery determination seems to scatter like dust. Dinner is a quiet affair, at least for her - she next to her mother at the head of the table and watches through her fringe as her father cracks jokes with his court and their guests, as if they hadn’t all been in a heated debate over the state of the nation’s politics only hours before.

It’s suffocating.

By the time she’s dismissed and sent off to her room, Hitoka is beyond frustrated. With her parents, but mostly with herself. And there’s no one to talk to - Shimizu is as busy as she’s ever been and Hitoka is still smarting from Alisa’s earlier scolding to seek her out now.

It’s not like she doesn’t have any friends, the palace would be far too lonely otherwise, but even she knows better than to confide in just anyone over something of this gravity. 

Lying in bed, she can’t help but recall Shouyou’s earnest expression as he’d encouraged her to speak to her parents. But he doesn’t _understand_ , and how could he? She’d had every right to keep her true identity hidden, but the thought of having been dishonest with him doesn’t sit right with her - especially now that she knows she’ll probably never see him again. 

_‘It would’ve been nice to travel with them,’_ she thinks wistfully. She’s always been curious about the rest of the world, and Takeda-sensei speaks so beautifully about the places beyond their city borders. Her whole life has been spent right here in the capital, watching her grandfather govern the country. Her father travelled all the time back then, and he always had some kind of trinket for her upon his return. Now he’s just as trapped as she is. 

But what right does she have to be unhappy when there’s so much suffering throughout the country? She already has more than most, to crave more is just selfish. At least, this is what she tries to tell herself but it doesn’t sate the ache in her chest. 

“Are you awake, Princess?”

Hitoka jumps at the sound of Alisa’s voice, sitting up abruptly and peering through the dark to pinpoint the shape of Alisa’s silhouette. 

“Alisa-san? What are you doing?”

“I had a feeling you were upset, I just wanted to check on you.”

It’s not the first time Hitoka’s witnessed Alisa’s sharp perception but it never gets any less strange. Still, it’s a relief to see her now. Being left alone with her own thoughts clearly isn’t doing her any good.

Scooting aside to make room, she waits until Alisa has settled in the bed next to her before curling up and leaning her head on the older woman’s shoulder.

“What’s on your mind, Princess?”

“You said before that I need to prove myself responsible to my parents,” Hitoka starts, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I did.” 

“But how can I do that when there’s so little that I know about this kingdom, about this country?”

“Takeda-sensei--”

“His lessons are wonderful, but it’s not the _same._ My own parents don’t think I’m capable and that’s never going to change as long as I keep letting my fears hold me back..”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“I -- there’s a boy, in the city--”

“ _Princess!_ ”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s my friend, and he’s training under a priest like you. He -- I talked to him about wanting a chance to prove myself--”

“When would you have had time to do that?” Alisa asks sharply, and Hitoka flinches. “Have you been sneaking out of the palace?”

“I was careful--”

Alisa sighs, and Hitoka feels like crying. There’s a lot of disappointment in that sigh. “That was extremely reckless of you, Princess. Who knows what could have happened? There are reasons your parents have rules--”

“Yes, yes, I know. Because I’m too young, too naive, too _stupid._ ” She can’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice and this time it’s Alisa who flinches. 

“That’s not what I said.”

“I know,” Hitoka says, sighing as her shoulders slump. “I know. It’s just - I was fine, Alisa-san. I was _careful._ I took the back route you showed me and I never strayed far from the city center. And after I met Shouyou-kun I was never alone, anyway.”

“And what about him? What does he have to do with any of this?”

“He doesn’t know who I am, I never told him. But he could tell I was upset about something, so I told him how I felt. And, and he suggested that I train with him and his teacher.”

Alisa frowns, this time in confusion. “How would that be any different from the time you spend with me? Or Takeda-sensei?”

“It’s -- they’re travellers. His teacher doesn’t belong to any of the shrines in the city.” Immediately, she feels Alisa sit up straighter as the realization dawns.

“Princess.. You’re not thinking of _leaving_ the palace, are you? Your parents would never agree to that, especially not with a pair of strangers.”

“I know. _I know._ I should have just told him that from the beginning but I -- I want to be something more, Alisa-san. And I don’t think I can do that here.”

There’s a long pause. Hitoka cranes her neck but in the dark it’s hard to make out Alisa’s expression. 

“It’s not.. _wrong_ for you to want that,” Alisa starts, “but going away with people you don’t know isn’t the way to achieve that. Have you even met his teacher? How do you know he’s really a priest?”

“I did! He is, at least I think he is. He was dressed differently but I think that’s just because they don’t stay in one place very long. They were supposed to leave today, actually, but Shouyou-kun convinced Suga-san to wait a little longer so I could try to talk to my parents. I mean, that’s what he thinks I’m going to do.”

“‘Suga’? As in Sugawara?”

“I don’t know,” Hitoka answers truthfully, frowning. “Does that matter?”

“It might,” Alisa says, voice distant like she’s thinking something over. “I want to meet them.”

Hitoka sits up in surprise. “Alisa-san?”

“I want to see who you’ve been spending your time with. I understand that he probably had your best intentions at heart, but I need to know for myself. You’re not usually someone so easily influenced, Princess, so this boy must be something special.”

“I think he is.”

 

 

True to her word, Alisa accompanies her on her trip out to the city the following day. There’s no need for secrecy with the priestess in tow but they both dress modestly all the same - partially because Hitoka isn’t sure if Suga-san had revealed her secret to Shouyou after she’d left, but mainly because they don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention while they’re out. 

Shouyou surprises them both by bowing the moment he sets eyes on Alisa, and for a heart-stopping moment Hitoka thinks her cover has been blown, but then he turns to her with wide, slightly-accusing eyes.

“You never said you already knew a priestess,” Shouyou hisses in what Hitoka is sure he meant to be a whisper. She flushes, bowing apologetically.

“Ah, she’s a - friend, of my parents. I told her about what we’d discussed and she insisted on meeting you and Suga-san.”

“Oh.” Here, surprisingly, Shouyou hesitates. “It’s just, he doesn’t really like to get involved with other - not that there’s anything wrong with you, ma’am! But, as his student I don’t think I could just--”

“It’s fine, Shouyou-kun. I understand. But tell me one thing, if you can. Is your teacher’s name Sugawara?”

This time Hitoka can see Alisa’s expression just fine and there’s something sharp in her gaze as she watches Shouyou for an answer. 

“I - it’s - I can’t tell you that,” Shouyou splutters, which is really answer enough. Alisa seems to think so too, because she nods to herself, suddenly looking pensive.

“Alisa-san?”

“It might be okay, if it’s Sugawara,” Alisa mutters to herself. Hitoka frowns, glancing over at Shouyou for understanding but he seems just as confused as she does. 

“Do you know my - this Sugawara?” he asks her.

“No… not yet. But I do know that I need to speak to him.”

“I’m sorry--” Shouyou starts, genuinely looking apologetic, but Alisa waves his concerns away. 

“Don’t be,” she says with a small smile, “it’s only natural that you would obey your teacher’s commands. It’s alright, Shouyou-kun; but if you _do_ see Sugawara-san, please tell him that Haiba Alisa would like to see him. Hi -- my student and I will be in the marketplace for a while yet.”

It’s a clear, but kind, dismissal. Hitoka watches as Shouyou bows to Alisa once more and flashes Hitoka a quick smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

“What was that about?” It’s clear that there’s more going on here than Alisa had mentioned the night before.

“There’s a reason I came to work for your parents, all those years ago. I knew that something big was coming, and I wanted to help stop it if I could. But I didn’t think that it would be _you,_ Princess.”

“Me? What do I have to do with any of this?”

“I’m not sure. You know it doesn’t work like that. But after we spoke last night I started to remember some things I’d forgotten about when I first came to the palace.” 

Hitoka’s head is spinning. “And it has to do with Suga-san?” 

“I’m.. not sure about that either. It’s just a feeling I have.” And Alisa’s feelings are very rarely ever wrong. “But Princess,” she adds, her voice lowering to a whisper as she takes Hitoka’s hand and leads her off to the side away from the crowds, “I want you to do what _you_ feel is right, no matter what happens next or what Sugawara and I end up discussing. If we do this, it has to be your choice.”

“If we -- you mean, _leave?_ ” 

Even now, she hasn’t honestly been considering that a possibility. She’d assumed Alisa would meet Shouyou and Suga-san, ascertain whether the latter is truly a priest as they’d claimed, and then Hitoka would wish them well on the rest of their journey. Not once had she considered the possibility of Alisa changing her mind.

Alisa takes Hitoka’s hands and bends to meet her eyes directly. “We don’t have to. We can stay here; your father is smart and his advisors even moreso. They’ll figure out how to protect this kingdom and our people.”

Her heart is racing at the mere thought. This is what she wanted, isn’t it? A chance to step out of the shadow of her parents, to prove to them and herself that she is a Princess worthy of one day ruling this country. What’s the point in complaining so much about it if she’s only going to cower away from the opportunity once it finally comes her way?

“We’ll wait for Sugawara-san.”

 

 

It doesn’t take long for Shouyou to return with Suga -- Sugawara-san in tow. He’s dressed the same as the day before, hair covered under a headscarf and feet wrapped in straps up to his calves. Hitoka watches as the two priests seem to size each other up before nodding in unison and turning to their charges.

“We should go somewhere private, if we’re to discuss this. I know a place,” Sugawara says, turning and leading the way back towards that treacherous alleyway where Hitoka had first met him.

Alisa follows without a moment’s hesitation so there’s nothing left for Hitoka and Shouyou to do but the same. 

“They’re acting kind of weird, don’t you think?” Shouyou mutters to her under his breath.

“I suppose, but that’s why we’re going to talk about it, right?”

“Yeah..” When Hitoka glances over, Shouyou is eyeing his teacher’s back with a considering glare. She kind of understands how he feels - while Alisa obviously doesn’t owe her any kind of answers, she can’t help but feel slightly resentful that there are things that the priestess has apparently been keeping to herself. She wonders if her parents knew about any of these things, but surely if that was the case then Alisa would be discussing this with them _them_ instead?

Sugawara leads them back to the tavern, already filled with drunks despite it being the middle of the day. Hitoka keeps her head down and avoids making eye contact with anyone as they walk past, even though a few call out to her and Alisa. Shouyou squawks like he wants to say something but he’s quelled by a sharp look shot over Sugawara’s shoulder, and then they’re entering a private room and the sliding paper door silences the raucous noise from the main hall.

The effect is too strong for it to be anything other than magic. Sugawara gestures to the low table in the center of the room and they all move to sit around it, Alisa and Hitoka on one side, and Shouyou and Sugawara on the other.

“Forgive me for not saying so earlier, but it is an honor to meet you, Haiba-dono,” is the first thing Sugawara says.

“Just Alisa is fine, I think.”

Sugawara blinks in surprise before smiling warmly. “Oh, alright then. Alisa-dono. I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear you’re now working in the palace.” 

“I go where I’m needed.”

Sugawara’s smile tightens, just slightly. “Is that what this is about, then? Because--”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m not here to recruit you, Sugawara-dono,” Alisa assures him, holding her hands placatingly.

“Just Suga is fine.”

“Of course. I won’t deny that I’d like to ask for your help--” here, Sugawara’s tensing is far more obvious, as is Shouyou’s beside her -- “but it’s not to have you come work in the palace. Hi- _my student_ mentioned that she’d been invited to travel with you. I was wondering if that offer was still open.”

“You - _what_?” Sugawara looks about as stunned as Hitoka had felt when Alisa brought this up to her earlier. His gaze cuts from Alisa to Hitoka and back again. “You do realize what you’re asking me, right?”

Alisa nods. “It’s a risk, I know. But this feels important and that’s not something I can ignore. You can turn us down if you want to but - as long as she’s willing - we’ll find another way and I really think it’ll be most beneficial to us all to travel together.”

“And is that based off the same feeling?”

“It is.”

“The King--”

“We’ll deal with that, one way or another. And we’ll do our best to ensure that no blame falls on either of you, no matter what happens.”

Shouyou’s eyes are getting wider with each word Alisa says, and Hitoka can tell that it’s killing him not to interrupt. There’s a lot she doesn’t understand, either, and she’s certain they’re talking around _whatever_ it is on purpose. Whether that’s for her sake or his, she isn’t sure. Alisa doesn’t know Shouyou the way Hitoka does, so it makes sense that she’d be reluctant to share all of her information right away.

But.. if they’re really all going to do this, they’re going to have to trust each other. Aren’t they?

 

 

Alisa doesn’t speak during their walk back to the palace, but that’s probably for the best. Hitoka’s mind is _spinning,_ still trying to put together the puzzle of their earlier conversation even though she knows she doesn’t yet have all of the pieces.

It’s only when they’re about to part ways after Alisa’s walked her back to her room that she starts to speak up, but Alisa seems to have been waiting for it.

“Please, I know I owe you a full explanation, and you’ll have one no matter what you decide. But take tonight to think things over. If we do this, then what’s to come will be very difficult and probably dangerous. It’s okay if you don’t think you can handle that. I told Suga-dono that I would find another way if I had to, and I meant that.”

Hitoka nods, even though she’s not entirely sure she finds Alisa’s words comforting. Alisa must know this because she bows, apologetic, before stepping back to leave. “I’m sorry to have burdened you this way, Princess.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly, but Alisa’s already begun to walk away.

 

In the end, it’s really quite an easy decision to make. Alisa shows up to her room just after dawn and the two of them quietly pack as much as they can manage without looking conspicuous. Hitoka writes a note which she leaves on her bed for her parents - or Shimizu - to find.

 

 

_‘Mother and Father,_

_I’m sorry that I didn’t discuss this with you directly but I knew that you would disapprove and this is something I feel I must do. For too long I’ve allowed myself to be complacent, but how can I ever be prepared to rule this country if I don’t know anything about it, or the struggles of it’s people? I know it’s too much to ask that you not send anyone after us, but I’ve taken Alisa with me and I promise that we’ll both be especially careful from here on out. When I return, I hope that I will be a daughter you can be proud of, someone wiser and more certain of her place in the world._

_Love always,_  
_Your daughter, Princess Hitoka.’_

 

 

“How long until they realize you’re missing?” Sugawara asks, hoisting Hitoka up to sit behind Shouyou on his horse.

“I left a note,” she says uncertainly, flushing as she wraps her arms around Shouyou’s middle, “but probably not for a few more hours at least? I don’t always have breakfast with them, especially since it’s been so busy lately, but Takeda-sensei will notice when I don’t show up for my lessons.”

Sugawara curses under his breath and Hitoka flinches, though she knows it isn’t directed at her. This isn’t how she’d imagined this going, either. She watches as he deftly climbs onto their second horse, Alisa already waiting for him. 

“We’ll have to put as much ground between us as we can, for now. Since they think it’s just the two of you, they’ll be expecting you to use more convenient methods of travel, so we’ll stick to the forests and head North. As soon as we get a chance, you’ll probably have to disguise yourself as well, just to be safe.”

Hitoka nods and then they’re off, Sugawara taking the lead.

 

*****

 

Skeleton’s Closet sits in the middle of a busy marketplace, it’s storefront as plain and unassuming as can be. Most people walk right by it, distracted by the flashiness of the other vendors or too put off by it’s rundown appearance to consider stepping inside. The windows are coated in grime so thick it’s nearly impossible to see inside, the heavy wooden sealed shut. No one stands out front trying to attract customers, so as far as most people are concerned, it’s been closed for years. 

Inside, however, is an entirely different story. Kept immaculately clean, there are shelves lining every wall and filled with riches the King himself couldn’t possibly imagine. Kuroo can _feel_ the magic presence here, not just from the objects on display but the hidden security system in place to prevent any attempts at theft. Though he’d honestly respect _anyone_ who actually managed to steal anything, let alone get far enough to attempt it. 

Between the three of them, he, Bokuto and Yaku had managed to unearth enough goods to hopefully atone for their lost treasure (some of it had admittedly come from his crew’s personal collection, and he couldn’t deny feeling guilty over that but it was for the best). 

“That’s quite the haul you’ve got there, Captain,” drawls the man sitting at the counter with his feet up. His short, unruly black hair and thick eyebrows are just as signature to his appearance as the tattoo on his neck that disappears under the collar of his jacket.

“We’ve kept busy,” Kuroo replies with a shrug as Bokuto and Yaku set down the crate and flank him on either side. “Where’s your boss? We need to have a chat.”

Groaning loudly, Matsukawa, rolls his eyes. “ _Don’t_ let him hear you say that, it’ll get to his head. We’re _partners_.”

“Bokuto and I are partners, but I’m still his boss.”

“Oh? Tetsu-chan, is that you? I sure hope you haven’t turned up empty-handed.” Oikawa Tooru’s gratingly sing-song voice filters down through the hole in the ceiling leading to the second floor, where all the _important_ merchandise is kept. In all his visits here, Kuroo’s only been allowed up once.

“That was _one time,_ dammit, let it go already.” 

Matsukawa snorts. 

Oikawa’s body appears through the hole little by little as he crawls down the ladder . He’s abandoned his ridiculous cape, for once, dressed down in just his undershirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair just the slightest bit unkempt. 

“Did you get into a fight?” Kuroo asks skeptically.

“In a manner of speaking,” is all Oikawa says as he skips the last few steps and lands on the ground with a quiet thud. Flicking his hair out of his eyes, he grins. “Well, then. Let’s see it, why don’t we?”

“About that…” Kuroo exchanges glances with the two at his side before stepping forward and bowing his head slightly. “We don’t have it anymore.”

“‘ _Anymore’_? As in you had it, but you lost it?” Lowering his feet, Matsukawa moves to stand but Oikawa throws out a hand to stop him before he can get anywhere.

“Now, now, Mattsun. We knew this particular item would be difficult to obtain from the beginning. That’s why we chose the Elektra’s crew in the first place,” he adds, cutting his eyes towards Kuroo.

“Yeah, well, you left that part out of your instructions. If we’d known, we would have been better prepared for an ambush.”

“An ambush?” Oikawa repeats, surprised. It might even be genuine. “Well, that’s interesting. And here I thought that perhaps you’d lost it in a gambling match.”

“Don’t insult me. When have I ever been that careless with a bounty?”

Oikawa shrugs. “You may be the most reliable crew on my roster but you’re still _pirates_ ; one can never be too sure with these things.”

“Our apparent untrustworthiness aside, I do think we’re owed some kind of explanation here,” Yaku cuts in, scowling.

Oikawa hums. “There’s not much I can tell you. The request came from a _very_ wealthy buyer who insisted I put my best team on the job. I knew that meant the object in question was either incredibly powerful or incredibly rare, but that was about it.”

Kuroo can feel Yaku bristling beside him. “So you have no idea what this thing looks like, either? What if we’d shown up with the wrong one?”

“I did ask, but he refused to tell me, and he’s not the kind of man that you want to get on his bad side. Whether he knew himself is difficult to say.”

“So you can’t just sell him something else and hope he falls for it, huh,” says Bokuto, frowning down at the crate they’d carried in. 

“I’m afraid not.”

Sighing heavily, Kuroo scrubs a hand through his hair. “So we’re back to square one, great, whatever. I’d always intended on trying to track it down again anyway - they stole it right out from under my nose and that makes this personal. But we need fuel to do that and we’re kind of running low, so.” Here, he gestures to the crate, which Yaku immediately bends to crack open.

“I don’t know how much it’s all worth, but it’s gotta be good for _something._ We’ll get the orb thing back, if that’s even what this guy is even after, I swear.”

Humming thoughtfully, Oikawa approaches the crate and crouches down in front of it to rifle through, Matsukawa coming up behind him. “Well I’d hate to have you leave here with _nothing_ ,” he muses, lifting one object and then another and scrutinizing them both closely. 

Kuroo’s shoulders slump just a little in relief, and by the time they’ve left their pockets are all a bit heavier.

 

 

“We’ll stop by Port Hewa to talk to Sawamura and Azumane about those missing kids, first thing tomorrow.”

Yaku looks up at him, surprised. “I thought you just said we were going to go after those thieves?”

Kuroo arches an eyebrow at him. “Do _you_ have any leads on that? Besides, I promised Bokuto,” he adds, glancing over at the man in question, who grins. 

“Sawamura’s almost as connected as Oikawa when it comes to information, anyway. I bet we can get them to do a little investigating for us free of charge if we take this one off their hands.”

“You’re as shrewd as ever,” Yaku grumbles, but Bokuto only grins wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for being so patient! also, if anyone is interested i'll be posting a request for a beta reader (link tba) on my [tumblr](http://kozumetetsu.tumblr.com). prior experience isn't necessary but all the details will be posted there so look out for that soon!


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